


Descendants of the Moon and Stars

by HQ_Wingster



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Space, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Happy Ending, Inspired by Art, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, No Dialogue, Slice of Life, Soul Bond, Soul-Searching, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HQ_Wingster/pseuds/HQ_Wingster
Summary: He comes like an arrow. His beauty comes from falling stars.His grace comes from the comets.His thoughts come from afar.His lips come from a gaze.His heart comes from designs.His touch comes from the solar winds.His voice comes from the heart. He meets me where I am.Yuuri is the prince of the Lunar Satellite. Viktor is a frontier scountsman for the Lunar Embassy. Though they rarely cross paths, one is the bringer of light while the other shades in the darkness, the intricate kilometers spanned between them is marked with the memories they hold for each other.





	Descendants of the Moon and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I was given permission by Crimson-Chains to write a fanfic for this gorgeous illustration  [ “Men on the Moon” ](https://crimson-chains.tumblr.com/post/171969375026/crimson-chains-a-thing-i-did-calling-it-men-in)
> 
> The thought of making a fic for this art came to me, after  [ I gifted CC an audio ](https://yuuris-piano.tumblr.com/post/171971255736/gifted-to-crimson-chains-for-their-exquisite) . I thought to myself:  _ a fic would complete the circle.  _ So here I am!
> 
> I like writing about space so combining it with a soulmate-angle was very interesting to me. This fic is full of love, adorable and touching moments, and I got to be more as myself while writing this. As a first, writing a fic inspired by an artwork, I would love to do more projects like this in the future.  **:D**

Yuuri is the prince of the Lunar Satellite. Viktor is a frontier scountsman for the Lunar Embassy. Though they rarely cross paths, one is the bringer of light while the other shades in the darkness, the intricate kilometers spanned between them is marked with the memories they hold for each other.

In the abyss over the sky, stars dipped and wove their constellations through the color-schemes. Great plumes of gold and purple rose from the depths by Viktor’s eyes, as soon as he turned. A trail painted by the glories beyond his reach, Viktor slipped his hand scope out from his pocket. The lens reflected bits of teal and black that shrouded into the purplish plumes. Mixed in like a concoction, but the colors sorted and arranged themselves into a stunning show. Where one color fell, another arose and played their part. Fingers woven through the powdery strands like that of a lover’s. When the colors fused, blended over like rich felt, Viktor could distinguish the dancers from the colors.

There, with his gown fluttering with every movement, a comet twirled out from the fog. Hand in hand with his lover, an asteroid. With any other name, but she was just as sweet. Her steady demeanor kept the comet from slipping away, though gravity had different plans for both of them. Where the comet was destined to another seventy years of revolvement while the asteroid was to return to a neighboring belt, left to crumble amongst a sea of others who had lost their rhythm from the corrosion of time.

Just as their fingers slipped, an arrow shot through the space between them. Gold in color, as strong as a core when a colorful string looped through the comet and asteroid’s fingers. Tied to a steady knot that kept them together, no matter how far they drifted apart. When the string lengthened, they still kept together. When the string grew shorter, rejoice could shiver them down to the core because a reunion was just right around the door. The lovers stared in amazement as their accompanying colors pulled them away. A simple glance downward and they saw Viktor.

He tipped the front of his hat, simply sitting on the edge of a lunar crater after he wrestled his bow back over his shoulder. A quiver of a smile upon his lips, eyes glowed with the kind of shine that a fellow lover would understand. Well aware of how hard it was to be separate from the one he loved, and he shouted encouragement to the celestial couple before their faces and voices faded and silence fell upon the sky.

Void of color, a blank canvas settled in. Occasionally gleamed by a few stars and comets that were too far to reach and Viktor’s breath coiled upwards to fill that empty space. He could count on two hands of how many times his breath was matched by another’s. How those breaths danced together, like the comet and asteroid when Cupid struck an arrow through the heart. That feeling snagged the strings in Viktor’s heart when he tucked his hand scope back into his coat. There was no use in sitting on a crater for long when he had the night to bring. For when everyone was asleep, blanketed by the shadows, only then could Viktor sit like this and think about Yuuri.

How Yuuri was on the other side of the Lunar Satellite, bringing forth the day while Viktor followed him from behind. Not closely from behind; however, with the hundreds of kilometers spanned between them. Like a glance before a kiss, like the words before a tomorrow, or like a touch before letting go. When the smooth terrain turned bulky beneath Viktor’s feet when he slid down a crater and climbed his way up, a thought came to his mind. What if he shot an arrow and had a string attached? Where his and Yuuri’s pinkies would tug whenever they thought of each other, and how their hearts would swell when the string grew shorter on a special day.

Ten thousand years of serving the night, and this was the first solution that came to Viktor’s mind. He knew he was going to hear a good lecture from Yuuri about this when they meet again on Lunar Festival. Just the thought of it tickled a bit of a smile across Viktor’s face when he tied a knot around his pinkie. The other end of the string was attached to an arrow. Manifested with a snap of his fingers, and Viktor held it between his teeth as he slowly ascended from a crater’s groove. His bow slipped down from his shoulder and onto the crook of his elbow.

When he got over, Viktor stretched his bow and aimed. How could he be sure that the arrow would find Yuuri? He was at the mercy of Fate, but Viktor imparted a memory on the arrow. Out of the treasury in his mind, Viktor parted with his fondest memory. It infused itself into the arrow. A flop of bangs slid over Viktor’s eyes before he pushed them out of the way with his breath. Arms poised, his arrow steady against the bow, Viktor shot.

The string from the arrow to his pinkie stretched, onwards to and over the horizon. Disappeared from Viktor’s eyes and his pinkie wagged at the back of the arrow’s harrowing adventure. Through canyons, over valleys, and beyond the reefs that shrouded the Lunar Satellite with homes, cities, and great expanses. Powered by a memory that Viktor had kept close his heart. A fleeting memory of when he first met Yuuri.

Not as adults, a scoutsman knelt before his royal. Not as strangers, meeting at every Lunar Festival and suddenly shy when they were the gracious hosts for the Solar System once again. Not as friends, when a lunar flower budded beneath their footsteps. Not as lovers, when tangled sheets and a gown slid onto the floor before a mesh of fingers traced every feature before a new one sprouted over their skin.

The memory was when they met as children. Viktor as four when his mother escorted him down a castle’s halls. Pillaring fixtures and a flush of stars spanned the ceiling, and Viktor kept tugging his mother’s sleeve. Pointing at the stars and chirping how they were real, and his mother didn’t have the heart to tell him that they were merely imprints of the stars that used to be. Then, Viktor found himself cradled his mother’s arms. Lifted so that he could peer into a crib that the royal family stepped aside from for just a moment. The King and Queen, flushed with excitement and tender love. Their eldest child, Mari, perched on the edge of her seat when she peeled back the soft curtains and blankets that hid a baby boy on the other side.

If soulmates were real, Viktor met his when Yuuri opened his eyes. A tiny hand reached out and Viktor held Yuuri’s. He said Yuuri’s name, oh-so softly. A full moon stenciled itself across the crook of Yuuri’s arm. A waning gibbous bled over the back of Viktor’s neck. A permanent mark to his skin, and his mother hid it behind a scarf when she wrapped it over Viktor’s shoulders. From that day forth, they were the painters of the Lunar Satellite.

From that day forth, Viktor treasured that memory. Until the arrow shot through a carriage, nearly disturbed Yuuri as he poured over his books. His glasses shone with iridescence from Viktor’s arrow, and he quickly called that the projectile came from Viktor. Not an enemy. Even then, Takeshi joked that Viktor was sort of like the enemy, how he knew where Yuuri was. How random arrows scattered across a plain, each ready for Yuuri to pick up so he could see a memory or adventure or a sight that intrigued Viktor. But today, this arrow was different. Tied with a string and when Yuuri tugged on it, he felt a tug back.

Ah, Viktor had an eye for the impossible and a heart for communication. As Yuuri carefully slipped the string around his pinkie for safekeeping, he closed his eyes and gazed into the memory that Viktor brought for him. A cool conscious cracked forth a smile and a sudden warmth flourished from the end of Yuuri’s pinkie. How that same warmth traveled across the string and touched Viktor.

 

 

On his odyssey across the Lunar Satellite, Yuuri could only carry a few things.

In the carriage, there were soft cushions for him to lay and sit on. Enough where he could close his eyes and slowly drift from the physical world, only to come back when Takeshi had a good joke to give or when he spotted one of Viktor’s arrows. Pointing to where it was with a twitch of his lips, and Yuuri would climb down from the carriage steps. Strong enough to make it down alone, but Takeshi was always stood near. His shoulder ready to catch and support Yuuri in case he ever fell. The sleeves of Yuuri’s haori rocked back and forth, like every step that brought him closer to one of Viktor’s memories. Sometimes, there was one arrow. At times, there was a handful. Each arrow never disintegrated under Yuuri’s touch until he viewed the memory inside. Then and only then, the arrows crumbled over his fingers and returned to the ground from whence it came. Trailed over like a small mound of dust, and Takeshi would call for Yuuri. There were places to go, places where the darkness needed to retreat for the light was coming through. With a turn of his head, Yuuri chirped back his thanks of the reminder. From there, the carriage moved on again. Where Takeshi kept an eye open as the carriage flowed across the Lunar Satellite while Yuuri closed his eyes when he laid over his cushions.

Yuuri had a few books. Three at most because he preferred rich novels with thousands of pages spilled in between. Too heavy to hold, but Yuuri grew with the books. Originally reading them from his lap, slowly built his strength when he picked up the novels and held them close for his eyes for short minutes at a time. Continue it for at least ten thousand years, and Yuuri could effortlessly balance one of the texts with a few of his fingers alone. His thumb supported the spine while his middle and index trailed down the words he had already read. Sometimes, Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to predict the next sentence before continuing his read. When the game grew tiresome and his thoughts wandered elsewhere, Yuuri would read aloud so that Takeshi could hear and learn. Many of which, Takeshi kept to heart and was amazed every time. Even when the facts grew dry, having heard them at least a hundred times, Takeshi’s enthusiasm rarely slipped. Nevertheless, during those moments when they were alone in a desert or crossing a canyon, Yuuri reached out and told him that it was okay to be himself. If he was uninterested, it was okay to say it than endure for Yuuri’s sake. Takeshi shook his head to that, singing how he loved it when he heard Yuuri’s passion behind each and every word. However, they both could agree that new books were needed to keep sanity on the horizon. When they passed into a town, Takeshi bought a slim novel for Yuuri. About three hundred pages, but skinnier than the three bricks by Yuuri’s feet. Though Yuuri finished the book within an hour, he couldn’t help but flip through the pages and reenact all his favorite lines to Takeshi. Those were the soft moments, where everything felt at peace.

Yuuri had a string, tied around his finger and gifted by Viktor. Occasionally in his reading, Yuuri would tug and feel Viktor tug back. This was how they communicated when letters and leaving behind memories didn’t suffice. This was what brought them together when they felt worlds apart. It felt as if Viktor was next to him in this carriage, but it was merely a fantasy. Even so, Yuuri could close his eyes and feel Viktor’s warmth against his shoulder. How Viktor rested his head. His bangs slipped over Yuuri’s sleeves, and his breaths held Yuuri’s attention far longer than any novel that he could pluck and read at this very instance. But with a simple blink, the imagination could only take Yuuri so far before his heart ached and he asked Takeshi for advice. With Takeshi only able to meet his wife and daughters once a year because he was with Yuuri, how did he cope with the loneliness? Takeshi slouched back in his seat, running on a tangent of how he wrote letters sometimes. He laughed when he spoke about how often he heard Yuuko in Yuuri’s voice. In many ways, Takeshi often found his family through the people he encountered in the towns the carriage passed by. He heard Yuuko’s laughter from a baker’s wife when a baker’s dozen popped out from the oven. He often heard of Loop when he saw a child running through a field. He often heard of Axel when a group of children played make-believe and pretend. He often thought of Lutz when a child was tenderly cradled in their parent’s arms. Through those sights and experiences, Takeshi felt closer to his family. For Yuuri, where did he see Viktor?

Yuuri felt Viktor’s hair with every turn of a page. He felt Viktor’s hugs when he pulled his sleeves together, and they felt snug over his skin. He heard Viktor’s voice from the passing comets and the lonely echoes across a canyon. He heard Viktor’s sorrow when an arrow whizzed by the carriage and struck the ground like a bullet. Yuuri saw Viktor’s smile when the string on his pinkie tugged rapidly, and Yuuri would tug back with his own rhythm to keep Viktor company. He saw Viktor through the frontier scoutsman that occasionally neighbored the carriage. Officers for the Lunar Embassy, patrollers of the law. They sent their gratitude to Yuuri. Heads bowed low with a flick of their bangs. Often reminded Yuuri of Viktor and how formal he was with a closed-smile. Barely able to contain his excitement for seeing Yuuri again.

That was what Yuuri carried with him. The tangible and the intangible. The real and his imagination. His reality and his fantasies. They came together to form a bundle, and every day they brought forth a familiar smile.

 

 

Upon stepping foot into town, casting shadows for the inhabitants to sleep under, Viktor parked himself inside a tavern and enjoyed a tall glass with an olive floating in the middle. The general rhythm of the establishment lulled Viktor to a state of tranquility. Sipping at his glass, sleep hovering over his shoulders like a blanket, he was a blink or two away from sleep. Just before he could fully settle, a small radio on the counter whistled a gentle waltz into the air.  _ Le cygne,  _ or  _ The Swan,  _ fluttered to the edge of Viktor’s water glass. Feathers curved and perked in all their glory, dipped serenely across his drink when it danced under his eyes.

Viktor swayed his head, back and forth, to the rhythm. A soft smile curved over his lips. He hung by a thread, swayed by the song of a cello and the heart of a trickling piano. As if Viktor was the background, cradling the graceful voice that reminded him of Yuuri. Of how Yuuri spoke, and Viktor hung to every word. Never to come into one ear and out the other, but to stay in his mind before it migrated down to his heart. Where it flourished and blossomed like the first signs of spring on Earth. A thought like that held Viktor, and he didn’t want to let it go. By the time the waltz ended, Viktor was alone with his thoughts and the pitter-patter of sleep just around the corner.

He booked a room for the night. Somewhat silly to think about. Him, tired as he is when he was the bringer of the night. But even the night needed it sleep, and Viktor could stay to one part of the Lunar Satellite if he preferred. Just for a few hours, enough to regroup and replenish his strength before another adventure beyond the horizon. And Viktor collapsed onto his bed with a creak of limbs and the springy mattress. Sprawled over the sheets, tangled in fatigue and how it pinned him softly against his pillow, Viktor’s face turned just as sleep kissed his lips. Like a kisses he felt from Yuuri when sleep was to come. The fleeting touches, always moving. From across a cheek, to down the chin, hovered at the lips, before filtering down. To the caress of his hair between Yuuri’s fingers and how the soft pokes used to tickle and elicit laughter from Viktor if he could manage one. Oh, how these thoughts fluttered into his dreams when Viktor hugged his pillow in his sleep.

This was love.

Could Viktor confess that? Could he confess that his heart had fallen over a thousand times when Yuuri was near? Could he confess that while venturing across the Lunar Satellite, he purposely focused on the sights and details that he could send as memories to Yuuri? Could he confess that he often looked forward to catching a glimpse of Yuuri?

During those moments when the carriage was behind on its schedule, Viktor’s night tiptoed at the heels of Yuuri’s day. Where the gleam from the sun followed at the very edge of the carriage before darkness washed over like a spilled paint jug. From the middle of a crowd, Viktor would jump or dance on the tips of his toes before the carriage rolled out. Takeshi’s humble armor and how he stood out like a shiny ornament at the front of the carriage drove attention away from the serene, silhouette perched inside. The willowy shadow as Yuuri poured his attention over a thin novel Takeshi had bought for him. The sudden jerk of his head when the string around his pinkie tugged. The line was short, shorter than it had ever been.

When the curtains were drawn back by an inch, fingers curled around the hem, cinnamon eyes peered out into the crowd. Afraid that a mistake had occurred but there, standing with the cuffs of his uniform rolled up and a flicker of bangs trailed over his eyes, Viktor met Yuuri’s gaze. If a smile was as radiant as a star, Viktor could brighten the night with one of those looks. The slight wave of his hand, how the rest of his fingers curved over while his pinkie stood straight in pride. Wagging a little because of the string tied around the top, and that was love.

 

 

_ I could recognize you by touch alone. _

The idea came to Yuuri when he participated in a little game. The Lunar Festival was nearing, and the sudden shift in the wind held his breath at a pause. The touch fingered at the loose strands of his hair, tickling the back of Yuuri’s neck when he steadied his arms and drew at a bow. A feathered arrow between his fingers, aimed at a board. Roughly ten meters away, and Takeshi mustered all of his encouragements into a prayer. Hands clapped together and he furiously waved them when Yuuri’s arms began to tremble. As every force had an opposite reaction, the bow fought with Yuuri’s strength. To release the arrow or not, Yuuri knew that he wasn’t ready yet. And so, blood seeped through his skin and fell like the first signs of rain. Alarmed Takeshi and the game booth manager; both urged Yuuri to shoot. The arrow shot out and struck one of the corners, far away from the bull’s eye and the outer ring.

When Takeshi later asked what had happened, Yuuri whispered between his bites that he felt Viktor’s presence. Takeshi nearly spilled his sake and might’ve dropped a moon cake. Custard seeds oozed from the pastry and it bounced over Takeshi’s thigh. A second chance and he caught it firmly at his palm. Another bite torn from the corner when he leaned across the table, chin rested over his knuckles.

With the Lunar Festival nearing, there was only a month left before Yuuri could meet Viktor. Face to face. On the same side of day, and on the same stair steps at night. Such a day only came once a year and Takeshi waved his chopsticks as he spoke. Tiny bits of rice flung in every which way with his gestures. What was Yuuri going to do?

Yuuri’s eyelashes fluttered when he rested his chopsticks at the tip of his lips. Unsure of how to respond, really. He could rest his chopsticks and ponder for the next seventy-two hours if he could, saturating the area with more daylight than it could bear. Perhaps he would know the answer once the holiday came closer. With that, Yuuri concluded that he and Takeshi should finish their meal quickly and moved on.

_ I know could know you blind, by the heat from your breaths. _

A familiar touch brushed the side of Yuuri’s cheek when he rested his teacup aside. Balanced over a few volumes, the steam wafted upwards like a comforting finger. Tickling Yuuri’s skin until he nudged his attention elsewhere and pretended to watch the shooting stars out from the carriage window. Having paused their journey in the meantime, Takeshi frolicked under the stars. The folds of his uniform flowed with the wind and with the bits of gust that came from the stars. Takeshi may’ve hollered for Yuuri to come out, to put his reading to rest and to enjoy the view.

Excitement was a bit of an understatement when it came to Takeshi, blessed to feel the night over his skin after a mercy-gamble with the sun. When Yuuri came out, suddenly chilled by the night’s blanket, it took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His hands waved around in the air, keeping him steady with every step forward. Tiny, just in case a crater was a foot away, and Takeshi teased him. Short jives, not enough to kindle an argument, but Yuuri had his way with his words. A twist to every sentence. Not that he and Takeshi were insulting each other just for the heck of it, but it sure gave them something new to talk about when they rummaged through the night. Like mischievous children, kicking up rocks and flailing their arms. Pretending that the Lunar Satellite was theirs to control and all the joys that came from a childhood, just before it was cut short.

They looked through the carriage for something to burn. For a lantern, of course. Takeshi reminded under his breath when he held one of Yuuri’s books, and Yuuri pried it out from his grip with sweet words and a crooked smile. They couldn’t burn food unless it was for eating. A thought of burning the carriage came to mind, but it was quickly ruled out when common sense came knocking. In the end, they scraped together a few matches that they weren’t going to miss, and Takeshi flicked the heads until they burned bright. Smoke plumed immediately like a rose, but not as sweet. Takeshi dropped the match, and Yuuri barely caught it. Fumbling at first before he got a steady grip.

_ Pyromania 101 _ was not a lesson to be had for the royal family and its subjects, but there the flames at Takeshi and Yuuri’s fingertips reminded them from where they came from. In the collisions and fires that forged the Lunar Satellite’s heart, life flourished when the heart took its first breath.

_ I would know you in death, at the end of this world. _

The final page of the novel met Yuuri, once again. He had walked this path before, walked it blind in his sleep when he reread novels during his dreams. He recognized this moment, like the impending doom and death soon to strip his life in a hundred thousand years or two. And once he died, another would take his place as Day. As well, as someone else would take Viktor’s place as Night. Two forces, never to meet but only once a year where they could share each other’s company with a manageable distance in between.

This was what ten thousand years amounted to. Brief moments and memories that kept the mind spry and entertained until more memories blossomed. If the day came where no more memories were meant to be made, would he and Viktor simply die? Would it be at the end of their lives or near the middle or near right now?

Yuuri thumbed at the edges of his novel. It was a short piece about two lovers through letters and bottleneck stories. But when the letters ended and the stories felt dull upon their ears, their lives didn’t end. More-so, they found a new understanding and appreciation that gifts, memories, and moments couldn’t encompass. At the end of the final chapter, the two lovers’ were still very much in life despite their story coming to end.

 

 

When the string around his pinkie grew shorter, Viktor saw the sunrise for the first time in a year. The light approached the horizon. Faint at first, meshed with the different hues before they separated at the seams. Merged into their awaiting pools before light spilled from over a mountain, overlooking a town. The night drew back, and the inhabitants to a small village arose from their slumber. Beating to the rhythm of life because it pulsated beneath their skin. Eyes raised when Viktor danced down the streets, as if he had never seen the sun before.

There was a reason to dance, to celebrate because his heart rejoiced when the light touched and curved over his skin.

The Lunar Festival was just a week away, sooner with every passing second. Viktor’s senses buzzed, mixed-signals shooting wayward messages around his mind. An explosion of energy empowered him as he went along with his dance, drawing a crowd around him and people joined him in the dance. Whether it was small footwork that one could be proud of, or it was a tango that deserved a rose at the end because celebration was in town on this crisp morning.

 

 

Coming home was perhaps more difficult leaving it, for Takeshi’s sake. A soon as news arrived to the royal castle, Takeshi loosened his collar when Yuuko sprinted from the gates and jumped into her husband’s arms. Two thousand year of training barely prepared Takeshi, and he nearly suffocated in Yuuko’s embrace. Squished a little smaller by her strength, and she held him gingerly in her arms. And when Lutz, Loop, and Axel piled onto the front of the carriage, Takeshi was a smart enough man to know that he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. Not with the hugs, the kisses, and the tender love that filled his heart until it exploded. By the time he got off the carriage, Takeshi acted and sounded like a different person. Recharged, a youthful glint in his eyes, and he smothered his family with more hugs and kisses than they could count.

It was beautiful, seeing how Takeshi lit up when he traced his fingers around Yuuko’s. It was heartwarming, watching how Takeshi readjusted to a family-setting and gave each of his daughters a piggyback ride. Like he promised last year. It was adorable, listening to the exaggerated voices and the quirky voices that parted between Takeshi’s lips when he recounted his journeys and all the sleeping he did while in front of the carriage. The last part was meant to be a secret, and Yuuko playfully punched Takeshi’s arm and reminded him of what his job was. Takeshi never forgot when he planted a kiss on Yuuko’s cheek, and Yuuko sewed her own kiss onto Takeshi.

Coming home had the same feel for Yuuri but perhaps, royal obligations kept the love and emotions at a faint background when he met his family again. Only Mari was able to meet him. Hiroko and Toshiya had gone abroad, negotiating trade and business from the edge of Saturn’s rings, but Mari relayed a message that she was supposed to say. A crook of a smile over her lips, but it looked forced. Not because Yuuri was home, but because of what Mari had to wear when she was greet her brother like this. Instead of armor or the uniform that came with being a scoutsman, Mari wore a traditional royal gown. Painted with lotus petals and cherry branches. Much too colorful for her taste, but Mari bared with it when she ruffled through Yuuri’s hair and asked if he wanted to shoot a few arrows.

The firing range wasn’t foreign territory to Yuuri now, and he managed to hit the inside of a ring while all of Mari’s shots nailed the bull’s eye like always. She was getting better, quicker at her draw. Sometimes, between smokes and biting an arrow’s tip, she talked about her adventures and how she once saved a life. Piqued his interest, Yuuri asked what happened. Somehow, Yuuri could taste the battlefield behind every word that left Mari’s lips. She didn’t need to transfer her memory for Yuuri to see what happened, because her words sketched the images into his mind. More visceral than any memory could capture because Yuuri’s imagination filled in the gaps and details. Rather dark for a homecoming, but Mari had a way of cleaning a story up so that it had a meaningful end.

When she saved someone’s life, they were inspired to join the Lunar Embassy to do the same for others. The act of saving one’s life would flow on like the sands in a hourglass, all of them moved to a common goal because one grain took the chance to do it first.

  
  


It’d been at least a year since Viktor polished his medal, singling him out as a scoutsman for the royal family. Though he rarely wore the medal, it was good practice to polish it before a special occasion. With a few kilometers under his belt before arriving at the castle, it was best to arrive with some style. Where he’d meet old faces and new faces, along with a mixture of friends and enemies that he rarely spoke to in the past ten thousand years. All those days, toiling under one sergent after another toughened their skins for the worst that they brought to each other.

Teases were the best gifts to bring, and Viktor had a few comments in his mind. Nothing mean or degrading. Just simple joys to bring back memories that everyone could laugh about now, than when it happened twelve thousand years ago. Just the thought got Viktor to realize of how much time had passed since then. It felt like only yesterday that he received this medal before going out on his journey and later today, an old home would be back under his feet. Where tomorrow, he could walk under the daylight and night with the person his pinkie was tied to.

What would Viktor say or do? Having fantasized tomorrow for an entire year, his thoughts felt cheap to all the words he wanted to say and to all the things he wanted to do. First and foremost, dignity and a polite smile were the ties and bowties that he was meant to wear. Chat with a few people, hold a speech, commence the Lunar Festival with Yuuri by his side...and then, what else was there? To say three simple words to the man that knew them too well, or to forget about it and try next year.

Viktor mumbled the words under his breath when he slipped his medal on, feeling it bump against his chest like a promise.

_ I love you. _

  
  


On the eve of the Lunar Festival, Yuuri hurried down the halls of the castle. Almost out of breath when he caught up to Mari, and she straightened his glasses before escorting him down a softly lit hallway to the balcony. Where people from all over the Lunar Satellite and from across the Solar System had come to partake in the yearly celebration. Was Yuuri nervous, after reciting a speech from heart at least a thousand times? He was, but it was a different kind of nervousness. It empowered him, gave his voice strength when it felt safer to retreat behind a curtain. However, Yuuri was prepared.

He had a speech, written out during his travels. Inked by the same flowers that flourished around the castle, close to blossoming for the start of the Lunar Festival. With the speech tucked against his heart, Yuuri steadied his breathing as Mari recited a list of ambassadors that had come this year to see Yuuri. If everything went to plan, hefty donations were to be expected. Enough where the Lunar Satellite could have its own seat in the Universal Conference, held once every hundred years. Yuuri reminded Mari that the odds of them obtaining a seat were as slim as a black hole appearing tomorrow. Mari agreed, but it was something nice to think about when more than a hundred thousand eyes were focused onto him.

However, when Yuuri crossed into the balcony and felt every eye upon him when he took his spot and licked his lips before the speech, his eyes briefly glanced to his left. Standing there, by his side and close enough for Yuuri to touch if he could, was Viktor.

  
  


As per tradition, the start of the Lunar Festival began with a dance after the opening speech was over. Hidden behind the curtains, there was a steady beat to Yuuri’s steps when he asked Viktor for a dance. They could have it outside, where the world was turned to them. Or perhaps, they could have it here. Where only their silhouettes were visible to any prying eyes. Viktor rested a finger against his lips, weighing out his choices.

His answer came in the form of a hand reaching out, meeting Yuuri’s at the middle. Their fingers crashed, suddenly shy to the other’s touch. It was always began like this before the first dance of the night. And for the next subsequent dances before Viktor said what he wanted to say, and Yuuri followed back with his own phrase.

_ “You meet me where I am, Viktor.” _


End file.
